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letra de hotel illness - the black crowes

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oh good heavens, baby where’s my medicine?
i must have left it outside with my etiquette
the undertaker’s rule of thumb
it’s hard to talk with a novocain tongue

this room smells like hotel illness
the scars i hide are now your business
i can’t seem to make hair nor hide of this
no baby love is not a punishment.

hypnotize by your rotten behavior
this week’s fashion is last year’s flavor
i got a head full of sermons and a mouth full of spiders
the politics of the world’s greatest liar

so tell me baby is it true all those things that they say about you…

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